Blankmap: Book I

36. A Story of Blood

Days passed. Still Solomon stayed in place, restless, unable to get up to face the world. When people came into his room -- he began to know the footsteps of Milli, Juda, and Miya as well as their voices -- he would turn to the wall and lay feigning sleep until they left him once more. They brought food which he did not eat, and they whispered kind words that did nothing to stop the steady flow of tears that coursed down his face like a river.

The sun set on one of these endless numberless days and Solomon heard footsteps, Melion's coming across the house and into the room that the Hyraxes had shared for a time. Solomon, per his custom, turned over. There was no sound of a plate being set down, nor did a hand come to rest on his forehead, as so many had done. There was just Melion, who lay down beside him and began speaking up toward the stars.

"The way that you feel is natural, and I do not wish to insult you by speaking to you this way. But I must say what is in my heart, all the same. I will not tell you not to mourn your father, but you must not let your grief consume you. I need not tell you that things both good and evil lay outside these walls, but I cannot abide you choosing to remain here forever. You are a participant in this world, Solomon Hyrax. Even when you were tucked away from it all in your father's stone castle, you were a part of it all. We all come from the same light, even those of us separated by strange and terrible seas. You have seen a little now of the cruelty that men are capable of inflicting upon one another. But I can only hope that we here have been able to show you a little of the compassion that people can have for each other, for no other reason than that they are part of the same great world. Take these last few days, for example. You may feel as though your existence has dwindled down to you and only you, now that your father is gone from you. But your absence from our fires, from our table, affects more than just you. The men and women sent to watch over you and guard you while you self-impose this exile have missed their other duties in the village, as well as time with their own beloved families. People have spent time preparing food for you, which you have neglected to eat and let go to waste. I have cancelled tonight's war council, a most urgent one, to come see you and speak with you. In your burdened heart you may feel that these were choices that we needed not make, that you did not ask for or expect any of this treatment. I acknowledge this second point to be true. But in the ways of our people, the care we have shown you--a guest--was never a choice. It is who we are and how we understand the world. Your actions spread in ways you could never imagine. You can try to isolate yourself, but you of all people should realize how difficult it is to keep an island hidden in this great ocean of ours. I will say no more."

Through his grief Solomon was stung by Melion's words. His father's friend had always been exceedingly kind, and had carried out his duties with a quiet dignity since becoming the Irooj. How could he say such things, in light of all that had happened? The foundation had been ripped from the world, did he not see it? Resentment burned in Solomon's moaning heart. He lay motionless on his palm mat, but inwardly he was roiling in tides of sorrow and anger. Solomon remained this way for some time, exhausting himself fighting these currents, until the heavy sleep of grief washed over him and he knew no more.

Some time after dawn Solomon woke to find that he was quite hungry. It was the first thing, besides pain, that he could remember feeling since his father's execution. There was no woven basket bearing cold fish on his floor this morning.

The young adventurer rose slowly out of the bed. His limbs felt creaky with disuse, and he paced the floor several times to stretch himself out before unlatching the woven door and stepping out into the sunlight. He walked down the white beach to the grove of jilubuki that grew there and picked a few of the long yellow fruits. He ate them as he strolled away from Melion's house, hoping to find his father's friend. There was so much to say, so much to ask.